Scarred

by MegatronsPen

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders
Length: 1940

Scar, having somehow escaped from the very moment of his death, finds himself in Equestria. Unfortunately for him, being stuck in a strange new world comes at a price and he can only hope something... or somepony can change him back to normal.

Scar, having somehow escaped death, finds himself unharmed and in Equestria among a bed of strange looking flowers within a strange looking forest, where a rather regrettable and magical mishap occurs...

But that was to be the least of his worries.

Being stuck in a strange new world comes at a price and he can only hope something... or somepony can change him back to normal.

(One-shot randomness I had to get out of my head).

Published 2014-08-11 21:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-11 21:30:03 UTC

Misplaced

"No!"

Clawing wildly at the foliage about him, Scar's dark nails ripped fauna and flora asunder as he defended himself from the laughing phantasms that existed inside of his head.

“No, you don’t understand!”

With desperate swipes he found his claws ripping chunks of bark from the trunks of nearby trees, while other just as manic swings of his paws took off the heads of the beautiful and curiously odd looking flowers he was flailing about in.

“Don't touch me!”

Wildly his limbs struck out, his rear and fore legs raking across the soil and snapping in the air as if he was ridden by an unaccepted passenger.

“Don’t eat m—!”

Wild green eyes snapped to and fro at his surroundings, noting the oddly shaped disfigurement of the trees and the overgrown unkempt state of the deep green grass he did quite recognize.

“Where… where am I?”

He pawed at one of the strange looking flowers, noting the strange release of pollen it produced whenever touched.

“This… but I was…” Turning his head left then right, his emerald eyes shone dangerously at his surroundings as he came to terms that he was not in the situation he was before.

“What is going on?” He snarled. "How did I end up here?"

Stalking forward step by cautious step, his body drew low to the ground, his streamline body despite its imperfections of color suited the surroundings, allowing him the maximum point of camouflage.

“Where are they?” He growled in a ravaged whisper.

With a snap of his his head to the side he rushed forward several steps before pouncing out of the grass, howling in anger.

“Where are you?!”

The mere rustling of the leaves was to be his only reply.

“I am here, you scavenging worms! Are you afraid? Are you?! How dare you turn on me! I will rip you to pieces!”

Only silence met his declaration of revenge.

“I thought so...” Smugly, he up turned his muzzle and turned about to walk back where he had came from, looking for the tell tale signs of a particular shape of rock or the expansive graveyard of a certain large mammal that covered a large portion of his kingdom.

He could see neither.

“Where am I?” He snapped his gaze left then right after mounting an outcrop of stone, gaining a vantage so he could see several feet into the dense terrain of gnarled trees spreading out before him in all directions. "I do not recognize these trees... in fact... I don't think I have ever seen such a species before... what are they?"

And then another more pressing question plagued him. One that sent his stomach to churn in anxiousness and for him to glance nervously about the small clearing.

What happened to his assailants?

Settling down, he ran a paw over his dark mane as he clenched his eyes shut, the recent memory of his imminent death assaulting him with only further more mind boggling questions.

"How did I survive?" He opened his eyes and looked to his upturned paws as they trembled, the fear of those gnashing teeth nipping at his flesh still ripe within him.

Looking over his body, he noted the lack of injuries he had half expected to riddle his form... in fact, there were none.

Trembling, he slammed his paws down onto the stone, spittle frothing forth from his lips. "What the hell is going on?!”

The impact sent motes of dirt and dust up in its wake as he repeated the same action over and over again against the rock to which he occupied.

“How dare they betray me! How dare they turn their back on me when it was I that gave them an endless supply of meat!"

With a final slap of his paws onto the stone, he huffed heavily through his nostrils as the sudden and rather explosive tantrum subsided... and then broke out into a manic laughter as a wide face splitting grin spread across his muzzle.

“You reap what you sow, isn't that right, brother? Is this the afterlife? Is this my purgatory? Is this my punishment for taking what was rightly mine all along?!" With a glance about the clearing, he chuckled maddeningly to himself, "I imagined it a tad more... fiery. Less comfortable..."

Raking his claws on the stone his emerald eyes clenched shut at the pleasant sensation of friction against the nails, spurring a growling purr to rumble from his throat. “To be devoured by what I created...” He chuckled. "How ironic. I did promise them all they could eat, didn't I? Those disgusting, flea ridden—"

“What about… Cutie Mark… uh… marksponies?!”

The high pitched, rather annoying voice caused the predator to dive into a nearby bush, thrusting his body low to the ground to keep out of sight.

Was that them?

No... too young.

Were they cubs?

Or prey, perhaps?

He was rather hungry.

Come to think of it, do the dead feel the need to fill their bellies?

Was he truly dead?

Raising a brow to the puzzling situation he found himself in, Scar stalked forward through the foliage, pressing his muzzle through the bush until he could see the visage of three horse-like creatures talking amongst themselves.

Such a sight only spurred his tongue to lap hungrily about his muzzle, his teeth itching to sink in the tender, moist flesh of such easy prey.

“Ah don’ think that’s a good idea…” Came the southern drawl of the pale red maned one.

“Why the hay not?” The squeaky white coated one asked, rather indignantly at that.

“Well for one, we don’t have crossbows... and I think they're illegal anyways... and we kinda need pose-able thumbs to work them." Replied the rather tomboyish filly with... wings?

Scar rubbed at his eyes with his paws.

Surely he was seeing things? A horse with wings?

If this was not indeed the afterlife then Scar might have to question the state of his mental faculties.

The squeaky white one snorted. Her voice was growing irritating. “How do you know that anyway, Scootaloo?”

“Well. I just do.”

He licked his lips.

Should he strike now while their parents were nowhere insight?

This could not be any more perfect.

This was almost too good to be true.

Maybe this was heaven, after all?

“Well… hey... Applebloom, can I ask you something?” Sweetie Belle turned about suddenly shifting nervously on her hooves..

“Sure… is somethin’ wrong?” Applebloom tilted her head and regarded Sweetie Belle with suspicion. "Ya'll been actin' kinda weird since this mornin'... is everythin' alright?"

Scootaloo merely blinked between the two. "Did I miss something?"

“Is your sister like… you know…" Sweetie Belle twirled a hoof in the air to try and wind the words from out of her mouth, "into mares, so to speak?”

Scootaloo spluttered. “Wait. What?!” Her wide eyes narrowed on Sweetie Belle.

Applebloom blushed and lowered her head while Scootaloo only continued her line of questioning.

“What the Tartarus, Sweetie? That’s a little out of left field!” Scootaloo looked to the flustered Applebloom who was being strangely quiet.

“Hear me out, girls... I've seen how she looks at my sister some times and it is the same look we saw when Cheerilee and Big Mac were...” Sweetie Belle shuddered.

The other two fillies shared the same response.

After a while, Applebloom sighed, resigned to telling the truth. “It's true... Ah... may had sneaked into her room th' other day an' read her diary when Applejack was out buckin' apples..."

Sweetlie Belle leaned in close, her eyes wide with glee while Scootaloo simply stared on at the scene with her jaw hanging wide open.

“And…? Details, filly!”

“Gah... okay! Jus' don' go tellin' anyone." Applebloom sucked in a deep breath, attempting to steady her nerves. "Th' truth is m’sister loves Roseluck. Badly. Like... writin' poetry about her badly.”

Sweetie Belle’s face frowned. “Wait, what?”

Scootaloo finally broke out of her stupor. “No way...”

Applebloom waved her hooves about in a panic. “Please promise me ya'll don’ say a thing to no pony! She’ll kill me if she found out Ah read her diary!”

Both members of the Cutie Mark Crusaders made a sign across their chests and then stabbed a hoof into a closed eye.

Scootaloo nodded. “Look, Applebloom, we don’t care if your sister is a fillyfoo—”

Interrupting swiftly with a lifted a hoof, Sweetie Belle corrected Scootaloo. “Of a different sexual persuasion. To be perfectly honest I personally find mares quite… attractive.”

Both fillies gawked at their friend as she practically came out of the closet.

“What?” Sweetie Belle announced indignantly. “I find our refined and elegant ways as mares quite the feature.” Sweetie Belle attempted her best to emulate her sister's voice, though failed miserably considering how high pitched and erratically toned hers tends to be.

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “We’re not all like that, Sweetie.”

Applebloom sighed, knowing that a Pinkie Promise was never to be broken. As she smiled to her friends, her face fell into a picture of despair as she noticed two gaping maws of a pair of timber wolves hovering over her friend’s heads.

"G-g-g-g-girls! RUN!"

As the jaws moved to clamp down over the fillies heads, something sprang over them and towards the wolves.

It was a dark furred shape in the guise of a rather large feline, and it tackled both timber wolves onto their backs with ease. And it released a terrifying roar that caused both timber wolves to whine in fear, including the three fillies that were now huddled together, screaming.

The creature that attacked the wolves slashed claw after wicked claw, ripping chunks from the creatures to spray parts of their wooden flesh left and right. Upon the lips of the beast was a wild grin that only continued to frighten the fillies, as it displayed an array of dangerously sharp teeth to complete the hellish and savage sight of the lioness easily rendering two timer wolves to shreds.

“THEY ARE MY PREY!" Scar paused his assault not because the timber wolves were successfully murdered into barely moving twigs, but in fact due to the odd high pitched state of his voice. "Wait... what's wrong with my voice? Why do I sound like a-"

Cut off by the still screaming fillies, Scar turned about and snapped his maw in their direction, snarling his rather feminine words.

"Oh do shut up for a second!" Scar stormed forward and used his significant height advantage to bear over the three fillies, who only shrank back against the ground the closer he got.

But they continued to scream.

"If you don't stop your incessant screaming I am going to rip out your throats with my teeth!" He growled, bearing his teeth to further prove his point.

"Yes, M'am!" All three fillies chimed, their little faces consumed with fear and tears.

"Thank you... you were starting to give me such a headache—wait, what did you just call me?" Scar blinked at the three fillies, suddenly rather perplexed.

"N-nothing... M-M'am... w-we wouldn' call ya... a-a-anythin'!" Applebloom whimpered.

"D-don't eat us, pleaaaaase..." Sweetie Belle wept behind her forehooves. "I'm too young to die!"

Scootaloo simply sniffled, trying so desperately hard to contain her tears and the contents of her bladder.

Pulling back, Scar quickly patted himself down.

"No..."

He quickly stood up on all fours and took a quick glance between his legs to find—

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Author's Note

Hakuna matata.

It's cliche, I know. But I had to get it out of my head goddamn head.

Also this: "G-g-g-g-girls! RUN!" <---- fuckin Scooby Doo.